Sleeping Arrangements
by Taliatoennien
Summary: Amy and Rory's wedding night aboard the TARDIS.


SUMMARY: Amy and Rory's wedding night aboard the TARDIS.

DISCLAIMER: _Dr. Who_, the Doctor, Amy, and Rory don't belong to me, and I'm not making any money from this story.

A/N: Dragondarque earned fic on livejournal with a perfect score, then came up with what I thought was the most creative idea of anyone who participated in the contest. I hope this fic lives up to the awesomeness of all the source material.

Major beta thanks to Terri – both for this beta and for supporting and encouraging my Dr. Who habit!

Sleeping Arrangements

by Alicia

"Bunk beds?" Rory said.

"I remember," Amy said, riding on the wave of exhaustion and excitement. "I remember everything. I know who my parents are. He was late to my wedding, but he came, and we're married…" and then somewhere from the wave of music and sound, Rory's voice emerged. "And he gave us bunk beds?"

The room itself was very pretty. At least, it was about the most beautiful room one could possibly imagine for a couple of six year olds. It was twice the size of the room Amy had grown up in, and it was what the room might have become without the crack that had terrified her so in her fantasies. Once again, Amy tired of trying to separate out the conflicting images. Eventually fantasy and memory and reality would all separate themselves out again. For now Amy planned to leave the outside world outside and let the present be all she saw. And the present was a lovely room. It had thick carpet, slowly spinning star mobiles in separate sections of the ceiling, a lovely stained wood desk at one end, and a classic set of bunk beds at the other.

Rory thunked his forehead into Amy's chest. "Bunk beds."

Amy kissed the top of Rory's head. She did not bother at all to ignore where his mouth was. She turned her eyes toward the ceiling, idly fixing on a wooden moon covered in silver paint. "My raggedy doctor," she sighed.

"Your raggedy doctor?"

"Well, yeah, he obviously doesn't know anything," Amy said. "Bunk beds." She fought to relegate the fantasy and reality to their separate places. Holding her eyes closed while living stone terrors slipped close enough to strangle her while Rory was suddenly absent for a reason Amy couldn't quite remember; that had happened. Being swept through a ballroom of stars by the creature of her imagination, was obviously fantasy; Amy knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt after seeing the Doctor "dance." Waiting, through a haze of years, with Rory watching over her … Amy wasn't sure about that, not yet. Her Rory was there with her in the moment, and that was enough. He was the most faithful man she'd ever met.

"Your raggedy doctor?" Rory said again.

Suddenly Amy understood. Rory thought Amy would rather be in the Doctor's bed at this moment, even with as little as the Doctor had just proven that he knew. And the idea that Amy had something to prove to Rory – so soon after she'd acknowledged to herself that he was hers and she'd never doubt that – after the confusing blur of the day with its inexplicable sadness – brought tears to Amy's eyes again. She fought them, swiping at her face with her hands. "Rory, please don't."

His demeanor changed instantly. "I'm sorry. You'd think after all these years I'd know what not to say to you."

"It's okay. You do know. Today was our wedding," Amy said, stressing the 'our' just enough for Rory to pick up her meaning. They'd had a secret language all their lives. "Our wedding," she said again. "And now we get to spend our wedding night in bunk beds." The hum of the TARDIS all around her was exciting, intoxicating. Who knew what other worlds were passing outside the room.

"There's something I think we should do," Rory said, very seriously. Even though they were in their room with the door shut, Rory still leaned forward and whispered the rest of his idea in Amy's ear.

She hadn't known he knew those words.

"Well?"

"That's not physically possible in a bunk bed."

"Who said anything about doing anything in a bunk bed?" Rory said, gesturing at the extremely thick soft carpet.

Hmmm. If the Doctor was innocent enough to put her and Rory in bunk beds on their wedding night, he wouldn't possibly pick out the meaning of the patterns in his carpet in the morning, Amy decided. It had to be late by Earth time. Who knew what century was flying outside her window. She was tired beyond belief. And happy, deeply happy, she decided. The sadness from before was still there in her heart, but it only served to cradle and frame her new joy, black velvet around a rare diamond. The carpet was still soft and thick. But she was cold. There must be cold metal somewhere below the carpet. It was also too hard. Amy had brand new bruises on parts of her body she didn't want pressed into metal beneath the carpet. Yet she didn't want to leave Rory's embrace.

"Are you asleep?" Rory whispered.

"Yes," Amy said.

"Good. Because so am I."

"Good. That means we don't have to get in the bunk beds."

Rory sighed. "I'm getting cold."

"Yeah, so am I." Amy debated pulling the blankets off the bed and using them to cover herself and Rory on the floor, but instead said, "Do you want the top or the bottom?"

Rory lifted an eyebrow. "Welllll…"

"Bunk. To sleep in. Stupidhead," Amy poked him with her elbow. That was not easily accomplished considering how tightly he was holding her.

"You climb on top."

This was the way they'd always done their sleepovers in childhood – at least before Rory's parents figured out that he was too old to spend the night at a girl's house and Amy's parents figured out Rory wasn't gay. Amy took the top bunk and Rory took the bottom, so Rory's snores would become a soothing rhythm of white noise and Amy could hang her head over the edge to wake him up in the morning. "Okay," Amy said. She eased herself out of Rory's embrace. She cried again at the loss. He was there, with her. But he wasn't. His arms were no longer around her. She climbed the wooden steps to the top bunk and lay down. If she turned, she would at least see Rory before he vanished into the bunk below.

Amy thunked her head into Rory's chest.

"Ouch," Rory said.

Amy blurted out "Sorry" in surprise as Rory's arms settled back around her.

"Hmmm. This is nice," Amy said. There was maybe two feet between her head and the ceiling. Her face was turned toward the wall. Shadows from the ceiling mobile danced idly on the wall, and the unearthly hum let her know the wonders outside. Rory's arms held her tightly from behind, his head resting next to hers, stubble grazing her shoulder. Amy laced her fingers through Rory's and smiled, even though she knew he couldn't see her.

"Hmmm. Maybe this room will do."

Amy laughed. "Goodnight, Rory."

"Goodnight, love."


End file.
